Hears't thou the dash of water, loud and hoarse, br With its perpetual tidings upward climb, br Struggling against the wind? Oh, how sublime! br For not in vain from its portentous source br Thy heart, wild stream, hath yearned for its full force, br But from thine ice-toothed caverns, dark as time, br At last thou issuest, dancing to the rime br Of thy outvolleying freedom! Lo, thy course br Lies straight before thee as the arrow flies! br Right to the ocean-plains away, away! br Thy parent waits thee, and her sunset dyes br Are ruffled for thy coming, and the gray br Of all her glittering borders flashes high br Against the glittering rocks!-oh, haste, and fly!br br George MacDonaldbr br